


Vengeance Is Mine

by GhostlyWitchAvenger



Series: Hela!Bones [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Bones, Civil War Team Iron Man, Gen, Hurt Bones, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Not Avengers: Infinity War (Movies) Compliant, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Prosthesis, Team Cap is shit, not team Cap friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-03-16 17:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13641354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyWitchAvenger/pseuds/GhostlyWitchAvenger
Summary: “And you, you better run because I'm going to destroy you for what you've taken from me.”-Blood Will Tellby Samantha YoungChapters 1 & 2 edited: 9/30/2018





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am salty about Civil War. I always will be salty Civil War.
> 
> I'm also bad at writing bashing fic while still being reasonable about it, so bear with me.
> 
> _This fic ignores_ Spider-man: Homecoming _and_ Black Panther, _because I wrote the synopsis before I saw the movies_

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve thought they would be welcomed back with open arms. 
> 
> Assumptions are corrected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 9/30/2018

Thanos was coming. That's all there was to it.

As he had told his team time and time again during their stay on the small planet of Wakanda, Steve had believed something big would eventually come along, and Earth would have no choice but to grant them amnesty once they realised their mistake. Granted, even he had doubted his confident words nearing the end. It had been years, after all. Even the hardiest of men would grow weary with time.

But nevertheless, here they were, fully pardoned for their 'offenses’. The Accords were scrapped, and Bucky’s triggers were gone with the help of Wakandan’s superior technology. Everything was exactly as he had expected and all of them were ready to fight and show the UFP that they had been in the right, all those years ago.

To Steve, it seemed as if the government of Earth was truly repentant for labelling them as terrorists to the Federation. From the few details he could recall from their freshly signed pardons - the rest he felt were unimportant - they were getting their old compound back; their old life, too. Starfleet had even assigned the  _ Enterprise _ to ferry them back home, something normally reserved for the most important guests.

“But we are important,” Scott had said when Steve had told them the news, “We're the Avengers.”

“The  _ real _ Avengers,” Clint had added on, throwing a disgusted look toward the screen which displayed the new Avengers team, featuring Tony as the leader. The 'new’ Avengers had all looked solemn during the press conference announcing to the public that the original members were coming back, and it had struck Steve that integration of the two teams would be difficult. It was likely they were all on Tony's side in everything, and they would certainly push back once Steve reclaimed his position of leader from Iron Man.

Speaking of, the engineer stood at the beam out point, looking the same as ever in his intimidatingly sharp suit and red tinted sunglasses as they approached. And like always, Steve thought he looked like the devil ready to set up a deal in exchange for a soul.

Fitting. That's what had nearly happened with the Accords.

Just beside him stood two tall men in Starfleet uniforms. The captain and the first officer of the  _ Enterprise _ , no doubt. Though, could the other really be considered a man when he wasn't human, with his slanted brows and pointed ears? 

“It's good to see you, Tony,” He sighed when the billionaire merely pursed his lips in response. Steve had almost forgotten how the man could hold a grudge. It was no matter, there'd be plenty of time to get an apology from him later, “Thank you for calling.” For the longest time, he had been worried that Tony had never received the letter and phone in the first place. Who knew how Wakandan mail worked? 

But when he had gotten that call, one hot afternoon, he had felt everything fall into place.

“Oh, believe me,” Tony's face went slack with forced indifference, hands still folded behind his back much like the Vulcan’s. And for some reason, that angered Steve, “I didn't want to.”

“Tony,” He said, again, disappointment seeping into his voice. The billionaire flinched, “It’s time we moved past this.”

“Yeah, Stark,” Clint added from the back, hands curling into fists by his sides, “Put your bruised ego aside for once and do the right thing. I know you’ve been keeping Laura from contacting me.”

“I did no such thing, and the fact that you think I did - or even could, your wife is scary, there’s no way I could stop her even if I wanted to - is laughable,” While Steve could believe that Tony was willing to be so difficult in the name of pettiness, it still managed to burrow under his skin, much like a tick would. It was unpleasant, and it might've stung a little.

No one needed to tell him that the engineer was the reason why it took so long for the pardons to go through, no doubt fostering ill-will towards the Avengers on the news. He had hoped, with Tony the one delivering the documents, that it was a show that he had gotten over himself enough to admit he was in the wrong.

It would seem that wasn’t the case.

“Gentlemen,” The Starfleet officer in gold, probably the captain, cut in with a stern look. Steve already knew he wouldn’t like him, not with the way his blue eyes judged them as if  _ they _ were in the wrong. As if they were still - were  _ ever  _ \- criminals, “My name is James Tiberius Kirk, captain of the  _ U.S.S. Enterprise. _ This my First Officer, Mr. Spock. I’m sorry to say that we do  _ not _ have time for squabbles such as these, and I ask that you keep your issues to a minimum while on my ship.”

Steve had to bite his tongue to keep himself from speaking out, and a quick glance to the others easily prevented them from saying anything as well.

“Now, if you’d all step onto the pad.  We’ll be making a stop in Sickbay after you board. For both my crew's safety and yours.”

“Excuse me, I don't understand how we pose a threat to the crew, Mr-,” The Vulcan, Mr. Spock, sent him a severe look, one that intimidated even himself into silence. 

“ _ Captain _ Kirk,” Kirk corrected him, a dry set to his lips, “And that'll be explained by my CMO. Now, if you'll please step onto the pad. I'd like to not waste any more time.”

Both Wanda and Clint were muttering angrily under their breaths, sending harsh looks the captain’s way as they fell into place behind Steve. He couldn’t fault them for their anger. Really, the only issue he had when it came to their volatile personalities was when it made Bucky uncomfortable.

Like right now. He was rubbing at the stump that used to be his arm while eyeing the two warily, and Steve couldn’t help the flash of anger that rushed through him. Just another thing that Tony took from them all. Whatever, he’ll just get him to make Bucky a new one since Stark owed it to them, after all.

Kirk flipped open his communicator, “Kirk to  _ Enterprise _ . Nine to beam up.”

_ “Aye, sir.” _

After waking up from the ice, Steve found himself not liking the future all that much. Sure, some of the new inventions were pretty swell, but for the most part, humans had become soft and lazy. Even now, it was hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact there was no longer a military in place. Who knew when their supposed alien 'allies’ would turn on them and become the enemy?

He did like the transporter, however. All of the colours that flashed before his eyes were mesmerising, and satisfied the artist in him. Unfortunately, it was over all too soon.

And almost immediately, a group of ten men and women dressed in red surrounded them, faces set into a stiff mask. While their postures were rigid with their hands at their sides, their phasers, holstered at their hips, were still within easy reach.

Offended didn’t even begin to cover it.

“A security team? I hardly think this is necessary.” 

“Let me remind you I'm the captain of this ship, Mr. Rogers. Ultimately, I decide what's necessary and what's not.”

“Yet, this isn't the welcome we expected.”

For the first time since meeting, which didn’t say much since it had only been a few minutes, Kirk’s face cracked into a scowl, rounding on the group's leader, “Let’s make one thing clear. You are on  _ my _ ship, and I will not have you questioning protocol or my orders.  _ Again _ , ultimately, I decide what's necessary. That's my  _ job _ ,” The Vulcan looked almost proud as the captain spit acid at them, “Now, if we can continue.” 

“How dare you speak-,” Wanda nearly shrieked, red mist dancing around her fingers. The security detail immediately went to draw their weapons, eyes silently daring her to release her magic on their captain. Almost as if they were itching for a fight.

Just what had Tony been telling these people?

As the red continued to grow with intensity, Steve realised he had to stop her before Stark found another reason to lock her up.

“Wanda, no.” 

“Can he even talk to us like that?” Scott whispered, not quietly. Kirk rolled his eyes, perhaps unfazed by that display of power before continuing on his way. They were forced to follow when some of the security members not-so-gently nudged them forward. 

The Vulcan fell in line with them, yet he didn't bother to look at them directly when he spoke, “He is the captain, how he wishes to speak to you is his own prerogative. Perhaps you should do as what is requested of you,” The ‘for once’ was left unsaid, yet heavily implied, and Steve became more on edge. The King of Wakanda had told them that most of Earth was on their side when it came to the Accords, even if the Federation as a whole was slightly less so. It didn’t make sense to face so much hostility on the ‘Fleet’s flagship. Perhaps this was all a ruse to bring them in? No, T’Challa wouldn’t do that to them.

Maybe this was Stark's idea. Maybe it was some sort of plan he cooked up in that working brain of his, but a glance over to the billionaire just revealed a stoic face that could rival a Vulcan's.

And since boarding, he refused to say anything to or in defense of the team.

Disgusting.

Sickbay was just as cold and clinical as the Vulcan’s treatment of them, just like all medical workspaces were. Steve would know, he’d spent enough time in Wakanda’s hospital sitting in front Bucky’s cryotube to be familiar with this sort of atmosphere.

However, it wasn't quiet. There were quite a few people in biobeds, with a worryingly small amount of nurses flitting between them all. Some patients were sneezing, and some seemed to be shaking with chills. They all looked miserable.

He was reminded of those poor people on the streets during the Depression.

A pretty young dame with blonde hair greeted them with an impersonal, professional face. In fact, she seemed so professional that it felt like she was trying hard to keep up that mask. Too hard. Steve narrowed his eyes, “I’ll let Doctor McCoy know you’re here,” Was all she said to the team before turning to Kirk, “Unfortunately, we're short on staff today. M’Benga is out with the flu, as are a few of our nurses. It’s a nasty strain.” 

“I understand Nurse Chapel, thank you,” Taking that as a dismissal, she approached a man near the back of the room, mostly hidden by a cart full of hyposprays and dermal regenerators. His back was turned to them as he ran some kind of… machine over someone’s burn, “I kindly request you don't stare.” 

“What?” 

“My CMO doesn't appreciate being stared at, so I'm asking you to respect that. If you even have the decency to do so.” 

“Why would we stare?” Steve ignored that last barb just as Kirk chose not to answer, his gaze on Chapel and, presumably, Doctor McCoy. She spoke in low tones, eyes occasionally darting over to them, and Steve was able see the precise moment the doctor tensed. Slowly, McCoy turned to glance over his shoulder, hazel eyes hard and cold, before he nodded, passing the machine off to Chapel to continue treatment. He grabbed two devices, only one that Steve recognised as a PADD, before he turned to head over. 

Now Steve knew what Kirk meant by ‘don’t stare’. Yet, it was hard not to. The man was already intimidating given his angry disposition and tall height - while he only stood an inch taller than Steve himself, up to this point only Thor had been tall enough to make the super soldier feel uncomfortable. McCoy was also practically half robot with the prosthetics he wore, one nearly replacing his entire leg and the other, most of his left hand. What really made Steve stare, though, were the disfiguring scars along his face, marring his skin in an angry red and warping his lips into a permanent scowl.

“Doctor Leonard McCoy, may I introduce the Avengers.” 

“I already know who they are,” He hardly acknowledged the team and instead turned to Tony. Feeling rebuffed, Steve crossed his arms. McCoy didn't necessarily smile, but his face softened enough for the crease between his brows to disappear, “Dr. Stark, I'd like to thank you for your revolutionary work with prosthetics. I wouldn’t have been able to return to work without them.” 

“Ah. Um, you're welcome,” Stark stuttered, and it took everything for Steve not to roll his eyes. He was only playing modest so McCoy would insist his praises, “I’m not the only person to work on them, though. And, to be honest, my reasons for entering the field were selfish.”

“Perhaps,” McCoy nodded along, some kind of southern accent colouring his words, “Although, can we say with certainty that history’s pioneers had ever done so without their own selfish reasons? And, I know you’re not the only one to work on them. But you’re one of the leadin’ minds behind the new wave in prosthetics, and you’re here before me. So I’m thankin’ you now.”

“Doctor McCoy,” Nurse Chapel returned with a cart containing hyposprays of varying colours, “I’ll go back to tending Anan’s arm. Just holler if you need me.” 

“Thank you, Chris. Alright, I'm scannin’ you one at a time. Make this easy for me and form a line.” He hadn't even started yet and the doctor looked done, merely beckoning them forward with a few fingers and an almost defeated line to his shoulders.

Steve isn’t sure why McCoy picked him to go first. Perhaps it was because he was the closest, but that didn’t mean he was okay with it. The glare McCoy levelled him made him shake a little in his boots when he stepped back, but he refused to be completely cowed, “Why do we need to be scanned? We're fine.” 

“In case you don't know, some species are more susceptible to human illnesses. As the planet of Wakanda is not only isolated, but populated by humans, not only are you behind on vaccinations that put you at risk for current diseases, but you may be carryin’ viruses or bacteria on you that could infect someone else on this ship,” While the explanation was delivered with a flat voice, Steve got the impression he was being talked down to, and he couldn’t stand it. What was it with these people? 

“Rogers-,” Stark tried to cut him off but he was not in the mood to listen to the billionaire.

“Vaccinations should be a choice, not something forced upon people.” 

The only indication that he’d somehow contracted the CMO’s ire was the tight set to the man’s jaw, who shot back with, “The Avengers’ interference with matters should be the people's choice, not somethin’ forced upon them. Everywhere you go, death follows. Good God, ain’t that rich comin’ from the man who was always sick before he got that serum. And didn’t anyone every explain herd immunity to-? Look, if you're quite done bein' a pain in my ass, just let me do my damn job before this dissolves into somethin’ I know I won't turn back from.” 

Steve knew he probably shouldn’t have continued, with the way the doctor’s nostrils flared like an angry bull’s, but he couldn’t help but focus on the fact that the man before him was practically blaming the Avengers for every death. Taking in a deep breath and pulling back his shoulders, he forced some command into his voice. It was like talking to Tony, honestly, “We can't save everyone.” 

McCoy slammed the machine - a tricorder, he distantly remembered - onto the cart with a loud bang. One loud enough to draw all of the eyes in the room to them and for silence to fall, “Tell that to the people who've died. Tell that to their loved ones!” His voice boomed, “‘We can’t save everyone’ ain’t gonna bring them back! No one wanted your sanctimonious asses runnin’ around on their territory screwin’ it all up after all of the people who lost their lives when you charged in.” 

“The Accords-!” Clint started, but Steve held up a hand with a shake of his head. The doctor was obviously too deluded - and possibly blinded by Tony Stark’s connection to his prosthetics - to see sense. 

“Oh, save it,” McCoy snarled, “Now stand straight and shut up like the good little soldier you are so I can get you the  _ hell _ out of my Sickbay.” 

Steve briefly entertained the idea that Kirk might’ve been enjoying the verbal lashing until he barked out, “Doctor McCoy, that's quite enough.” The CMO looked like he had wanted to say more, but chose not to open his mouth, merely picking up the scanner and running through whatever procedures he had lined up. 

The hour passed in tense silence, only filled with McCoy’s nonsensical grumblings aimed at no one in particular and the whirring of the equipment. In the end, they all left with a total of  - in his opinion, though that didn’t seem worth much on this ship - twenty-six  _ unnecessary  _ vaccinations and boosters. Most of them had been given to an antsy Wanda, who had never gotten any of the required vaccinations according to McCoy. In the meantime, the security team had sized down, with now only three individuals escorting them to the conference room.

As a condition of their pardons, they were required to sit down for a meeting rehashing the documents they had just signed. It all seemed redundant, but a small sacrifice to pay for their freedom. Though, if anyone asked Steve, they shouldn’t have had to make sacrifices in the first place.

He sped up to a quick jog to catch up with the captain, “I hope you're going give McCoy an official reprimand. Anyone under my command wouldn't behave like that,” And it was true. Back in the Howling Commandos, such behaviour would’ve been met with a smack over the head. With the Avengers, they all respected him. They all knew how to  _ properly _ act. Well, except for Stark, but he always had to be the exception.

Kirk didn’t respond as he continued to escort them to the conference room. 

Steve kept going, “His behaviour was abysmal and the lack of respect is concerning.” 

The laugh that filled the hallway was ugly, incredulous, and just a little mean as Kirk stopped, sarcasm dripping with each guffaw, “He's not going to get a reprimand, and would you like to know why, Mr. Rogers? To be frank, I agree with his sentiments, though Doctor McCoy is harsher with his words. Your behaviour leaves much to be desired. My job isn't to mollify you and your group, my job is to get you from Wakanda to Earth. And that's what will happen,” Violently, he gestured to the open door, “After you.”

With the scathing mutters of his team fading to the background as they took their seats, Steve realised that heading home wasn’t going to be easy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard is less than ready to face the Rogues.
> 
> The extent of their delusions starts to cause real problems for the crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this chapter since early March, sorry :)
> 
> Edited: 9/30/2018

It had taken Leonard a few minutes to calm down after the Avengers had left, rushing into his office with Nurse Anderson’s concerned ‘Doctor McCoy?’ following him as he brushed past her. His eyes burned as he forced himself to follow through with his breathing exercises, scarred hands gripping the edge of his desk with a painful force.

_ Inhale. Four seconds. _

_ Hold. Seven seconds. _

_ Exhale. Eight seconds. _

_ Repeat. _

After all of this time, his anger and hatred directed at Captain America and his team hadn’t died down. In fact, if he were to think about it, it had probably gotten worse. So quick he was to snap when faced with their ignorance-.

“Fuck!” He shouted, swiping his arm across his desk and knocking the delicate contents to the floor. The rage that flowed through his veins felt like lava, slow and burning. Thankfully, nothing broke, but it was a near thing.

The only comfort he had was knowing that they'd face justice. Very soon.

_ Not much longer now. _

“Doctor McCoy?”

Startled, he spun around to face a cautious Christine in the doorway, who had likely trailed after him with a data chip in her hand, “Sorry, Chris,” He couldn’t help but feel the shame as he bent down to clean up his mess. Like a kid caught stealing a cookie.

“Leo,” She sighed, kneeling next to him to help, “There’s no need to apologise. I understand it, I really do.”

“Yeah, but I should act better than that. As CMO, and all. Should apologise to Anderson, too,” Leonard muttered, picking up the last of his mess from the floor, “What’s that you got there?”

“The results from your… Avengers check-up,” She said the title with a soft sneer, which was a tad heartwarming, “I figured you might need it, just in case.”

The laugh that burst forth felt foreign and strange, and subconsciously he covered his mouth. No doubt his scars were turning his grin of mirth into a grimace of anger. This was one of the things he still had yet to get used to, since the… accident. Jim had commented, on occasion, that he didn’t smile much anymore. Most thought it was because of what happened, and in part, it was. 

But, without fail, his smiles always made people uncomfortable. And he felt that if he was going to scowl, it would be under his own power. It would be because he wanted to. Not because his scars dictated it.

Although, wasn't it one of the prices he knew would have to pay? Because he wanted to keep them as a reminder, instead of having them healed away as if they never existed in the first place?

“Honestly, I wonder how you’re not CMO. You’d do a better job than me.”

“Oh hush,” Christine swatted at him, a pleased grin on her lips, “You’ll make little ol’ me swoon with talk like that!”

“Maybe that was my intention.” 

The wink made her flush a bright red, struggling to hide her quiet titters behind her hand, “Hey, all of the nurses are getting together for drinks later. Wanna come?”

The offer was tempting, and it had been so long since he’d last hung out with anyone, even Jim. But could he be around people who went about their lives like nothing had happened years ago? 

No.

He didn’t - couldn't - blame them. They weren’t like him, but he didn't think he could do it. Not yet.

“Sorry, Chris,” Was said with a soft sigh, “Not tonight.”

Christine’s smile faded, briefly, before returning a little strained. He saw it anyway.

“Oh, that’s fine,” A gentle hand on his arm almost had him flying into a rage again. God, Christine was always so perceptive, “Leo… You know they’ll get what’s coming to them.”

Damn her and her kindness, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Leo-.”

“Maybe some other time,” He was already out the door with a PADD tucked under his arm, leaving her behind in the proverbial dust. He had a meeting to get to, after all.

Leonard was the last to arrive, considering he took the time to cool his head, and Rogers -  _ the little prick _ \- levelled him with a glacial stare. Whatever, “Thank you for finally joining us Doctor McCoy. May I ask what held you up?” Jim’s forced politeness was a large tell that he was irritated with his present company. They’d had the Avengers for merely an hour or two and it seemed everyone was already near the end of their rope. Even Nyota, who was seated across from the witch, had her arms crossed and a small frown on her lips.

“Christine just had a few things to run over with me, is all.”

“Ah, of course. Well, then,” Jim leaned forward in his seat, turning the screen of his PADD on, “Let’s get this show on the road. We’ll start with page one of your pardons, shall we?”

Barton grumbled a bit under his breath, but otherwise, they were all silent as Jim read the first part of their pardons. His tone was monotonous and without much inflection, as if he was just going through the motions. That was likely the case, since the ‘Avengers’ were supposed to know all of this already. 

In Leonard's opinion, these were complete bullshit. He had read through them -  _ thoroughly _ \- and if he had been in charge of writing these, they'd have been a lot harsher. They were practically a light slap on the wrist.

Of course, if he could have his way, they wouldn't even be free men right now.

Figured the Avengers wouldn't think the same. Rogers was the first to start fighting nearly everything that was read out loud, even after Nyota translated the legal jargon into something less daunting. Stark's attempts at corralling them into obedience had been futile as well, though, it perhaps had less to do with his efforts and more to do with the fact it was simply him.

“What do you mean, Wanda can't be on the field?” Maximoff’s fingers danced with red magic, eyes glowing menacingly and contrasting greatly with the petulant pout on her lips as it became clear she didn't know this either.

And considering that was one of the more important and stressed points of these documents, Leonard was starting to think they were some of the densest people in the known universe. 

“Ms. Maximoff needs to pass several psychological and physical evaluations before she can become an active member of the Avengers Initiative,” Dr. Stark said, switching between rubbing at his temples and eyeing Maximoff warily. Was this woman incapable of keeping a damper on her powers or did she simply choose not to? Leonard, knowing her history with HYDRA, wasn't inclined to believe she was just some amateur, “The individuals who wrote up the pardons felt that she doesn’t have enough control over her own powers or her emotions, and that it would be unwise to put her on the field with such a high risk.”

“They don’t get to make that decision, Stark!” Maximoff spat, “I can’t control their fear, only my own!”

“Wow,” Stark leaned back in his seat, “That statement is so delusional and wrong on so many levels, I don’t even know where to begin.”

While Jim looked like he had sucked on a lemon, probably a response to the Avengers’ stubbornness and trying to contain his mirth, Leonard found himself laughing almost hysterically.

“This is serious!” Rogers cried.

“Are you actually tellin’ us you never read what you signed?” Because if that was the case, the pardons would become invalidated. And who was to stop them if they kicked their sorry behinds back to Wakanda?

“Of course we did!” 

“Don’t sound like it to me.”

“Doctor McCoy, please,” Spock muttered from his right, leaning in slightly to keep his words between them, “Do not antagonise them.”

Even Nyota seemed less than amused at Leonard’s behaviour, looking as if she was screaming shrilly within her mind. He felt guilty, for the briefest of seconds. His reaction was no doubt unhelpful in every way. 

Jim sighed explosively, “I’ll have to let the admiralty know that there are still some issues. They’re not going to like this. Don’t you know you’re supposed to read the legally binding contracts you sign?”

“Don’t talk to us like that!” Maximoff shrieked, her lips curled into a snarl. Jim flinched back at her sudden open hostility, and Leonard was tempted to jump out of his seat and throttle her entitled throat. Especially when some of the other 'Avengers’ nodded along.

“Like what?”

“Like we’re children!” 

“Then stop acting like them. Let me make one thing clear,” Jim snapped, raising a finger and pointing at each of them as the security in the room went on high alert, “You have been on this ship for only _two_ _hours_ , and already you’re causing problems for me and my crew. I was willing to withhold judgement,” That was a lie that Leonard would’ve called out if they weren't in present company. What was a little white lie, anyway? What they don't know won't kill them, “But already my fears are being proven. With the exception of Dr. Stark, here, you have presented yourselves to be nothing but entitled children, and I will not tolerate that behaviour on my ship.”

Rogers bristled at that, and Leonard switched his attention to him, “I'm not entirely sure why you expect more from us. We’ve experienced a lot of hostility from your crew,” America’s golden boy made a gesture at the rest of the table, who regarded them with blank faces, “We’ve been met with either indifference or,” He made a harsh, almost rude, gesture at Leonard, who gave him a mocking smile in response, “disdain.”

“I wonder why,” Leonard mumbled dryly, unable to help himself. 

“Bones,” Jim hissed, “Not now.”

‘We’re the Avengers,” Barton spat out, “Perhaps you should show us some respect. Or maybe you just can't handle what you dish out.”

Wilson and Lang sunk further into their seats, nervously glancing between everyone in the room. They both seemed very uncomfortable with the situation and general atmosphere of the room. Not that Leonard particularly cared how  _ they  _ felt. Not right now, anyway. The blood was running hot in his veins as his anger clouded his thoughts.

“Respect?” Leonard guffawed, and Jim pursed his lips, “Respect? I don’t respect  _ HYDRA _ .” 

Rogers jumped to Wanda's defense almost immediately, something Leonard was starting to think was habitual behaviour for him, “She was just a kid!” 

“Oh, for the love of-.”

“Doctor McCoy, will you please cease and desist.” 

Leonard screwed up his lips before finally settling down, grumbling to himself. He quickly averted his eyes when they caught Nyota's disappointed gaze, subtly shaking her head at his actions. Damn him and his big mouth.

“Mr. Rogers, you must understand that your actions a few years ago have not endeared you to the public, my crew included. We are not here to cater to you, but merely to bring you back to Earth. The sooner you understand that the easier it will be for all of us. Now, I’d like to bring this meeting to an end, before tensions rise further than they already have and so that I can inform the admiralty of this… unfortunate development. Security will escort you to your quarters. Dismissed,” Rogers looked like he wanted to say more, but gave a curt nod before making a break for it. The rest of the Avengers, save for Stark, followed behind him like ducklings. Barnes, who had been silent the entire meeting, looked lost. Well, tough. With a sigh, Leonard went to leave, “Doctor McCoy, if you’d please stay behind.”

Soon enough, Nyota left with Spock, their tones subdued as they spoke amongst themselves. Had they gotten back together?

“Can I help you, Dr. Stark?”

The billionaire cast a nervous look to the door before turning to fully face the captain, “I want to apologise for their behaviour. I understand, almost better than anyone, how annoying they can be. They've always been like this if I'm to be honest and they don't listen to anyone, if the Accords were anything to go by and-.” He trailed off when Jim raised a patient hand.

“Dr. Stark. You don't have to apologise for something you're not accountable for. Nevertheless, it's appreciated.”

It seemed he didn't expect such a reaction, and he floundered a few moments before making his retreat, a simple 'thanks for understanding’ on his lips. Leonard felt a small burst of pity for him.

“Bones.”

The tone in Jim's voice had Leonard stiffening. It wasn't the 'official reprimanding’ tone he used as captain, but it was still scolding.

A sigh.

“I know you don’t want them here, I sure as hell don’t either, but if we constantly argue with them - I don’t want to say unnecessarily, because they deserve it - this is going to make it hard to handle the next few weeks.” 

And damn didn't the kid have a point.

“Sorry for being difficult,” Jim laughed at his less than genuine apology.

“It's not that, Bones. I mean, yeah, you  _ are _ being difficult, but my problem is with their reactions, not yours. They're, dare I say it, delusional. And they're obviously violent. Nothing we say is going to get through to them and I ready don't want to create a situation here. I wouldn't waste your breath.”

“You're right,” Leonard rubbed at his neck, feeling just a bit contrite. He didn't regret a single word he had said, obviously, but he couldn't help but feel guilty for making things harder on his friends, “I won't apologise for what I said, but I'll try address them with a cold professionalism, or somethin’. How's that sound?”

“You? Cold professionalism? Get out.”

“You think I can't do it? Watch, I’ll take a page out of Spock’s book.”

* * *

Dinner in the mess was a tense affair with the Avengers’ presence. The crew that were present eyed them warily, and conversation often lulled in favour of keeping their guard up.

You'd have to be blind not to notice. Steve tried ignoring it in preference to his own, light-hearted conversations with his friends and teammates, but he wasn't entirely successful. Especially when he tried to invite Tony over to sit with them and he had ignored them, instead sitting next to the doctor when the irritable man had beckoned him over.

Stark needed to get over himself already. Though he wasn't surprised that he seemed to have found a friend in McCoy, someone else who was steadfastly  _ not _ on the Avengers’ side.

“Stark!” Clint suddenly shouted, all eyes turning to him as he stood with his PADD in his hand and marched over to the genius. Steve hurried to rush after him. The archer had been quietly seething during their conversation, and whatever the problem was, it had to be reasonable, but he didn’t expect these people on the  _ Enterprise _ to understand. Especially with the way the group went to stand around Stark as they approached, “You fix this right now!”

“Mr. Barton, I do not know what the issue is but please refrain from making a scene,” The Vulcan’s words - Steve couldn’t be bothered to remember his name - went unheeded when Clint slammed his PADD on the table in front of Tony. Most of the text on the screen was too small for Steve to make out, but he was able to catch the title: Petition for Divorce.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do,” Stark frowned, leaning back in his seat as if to get away from the irate man in front of him. His eyes flickered to McCoy, who still hadn’t turned to face the two of them, “This business is between you and Laura. I’m not involved.”

He couldn’t find it in himself to care that the other crew were whispering amongst themselves, giving the entire Avengers group the side eye as the situation unfolded.

“Oh, so it’s  _ Laura _ now?”

“Stark,” Steve scowled. This was getting ridiculous, “Just tell Laura to call off the divorce. She’s being irrational.”

“Stay out of this, Mr. Rogers,” Tony didn’t spare him a glance, “Mr. Barton, I did not and will not influence Laura’s decision. That’s something you’ll have to take up with her.”

“I can’t talk to her when she won’t answer my fucking calls, you bastard!” Clint went to jump over the table, nearly managing to claw at Tony's face and Steve made no move to stop him, even when Stark yelped in surprise, his gauntlet forming around his hand and everyone witness to this started to yell in anger. However, before Clint could even make it much further, McCoy -  _ surprisingly, wasn’t he a doctor? What doctor got into fist fights? _ \- stood abruptly and grabbed him by the shirt.

“Bones!” Kirk finally spoke, but didn’t stop him, and instead said something that made absolutely no sense as he held a hand out to Stark, “Seriously, you said ‘cold professionalism’!”

“Watch yourself, Barton,” The doctor growled low, completely ignoring his captain as he shoved Clint back, “Perhaps your wife is divorcing you for a reason? Maybe it’s because you  _ left your family _ to become a  _ criminal _ ?”

With an angry shout, Clint’s fist landed square in the centre of McCoy’s face, hard enough for his head to snap back and for him to stumble to the ground. The earlier shouts rose to deafening levels when Clint followed him down with two more hits in quick succession, “Clint! Clint, stop!” Steve pulled the archer back, hardly breaking a sweat as he prevented him from further pummeling the downed man, “You can’t appeal the divorce if you’re violent!”

Clint shrugged him off. 

“Security, take him to the brig!”

“Wait, Kirk, don’t you think-?” Steve had the good sense to shut his mouth when Kirk raised his hand sharply, burning eyes never leaving the sight of men in red subduing the seething Avenger.

If Steve had thought Kirk looked angry before, he was  _ livid _ now.

“Bones, are you okay?”

The doctor’s response was muffled behind his hand, his blue tunic stained purple with blood. The woman with dark skin, someone he remembered from the meeting, was helping him off the ground, throwing a nasty glare Clint’s way, “Come on, let’s get you to Sickbay,” She said, before leading them away. Steve watched them leave, even when McCoy sent him a dark look before wincing.

Served him right.

“You can’t take him away!” Wanda appeared by his side, red swirling around her fingers once again, “He did nothing wrong!”

“You've got to be kidding me, Maximoff.”

“Ms. Maximoff, you will stand down or I’ll have security escort you to the brig as well.”

“Wanda,” Steve placed a hand on her arm and, thankfully, her magic faded. Satisfied, Kirk turned away to leave, “You need to let Clint go.”

“I’m sorry?” The captain turned back around with something unreadable in his eyes. The watch gauntlet around Tony's hand reverted back to its original state, but even with it gone, Tony still presented a threat. Everyone here did, as a matter of fact.

“I said you need to let Clint go.”

“Steve-.”

“Not now, Sam.”

“ _ Why _ should I let him go? I just watched him try to assault Dr. Stark and, as I’m sure you saw, he just clocked my CMO in the nose. Three times, actually. What exactly am I supposed to do with that?” The mess started to clear out as members of the crew grew uncomfortable with the atmosphere, but not uncomfortable enough to make their displeasure clear.

“That was McCoy’s fault, he shouldn't have provoked him. But that doesn’t matter right now,” Steve noticed Bucky slip quietly from the room, a slight tremor to his hands as Sam and Scott followed after him, “You wouldn’t have had him thrown in the brig if you weren’t so prejudiced against us.”

“Prejudiced?” An Asian man Steve hadn’t noticed stood, slightly flushed in his irritation, “Your team member just attacked two people and you expect us to - what - slap him on the wrist?”

“Yes!”

Kirk made a sound of disgust, waving the Avengers away as if they were flies, and both Stark and the Vulcan had identical expressions of disappointment on their faces.  _ Who were they to judge? _ “I’m done here. My decision is final.”

When Kirk made to brush past him, Steve grabbed his arm to prevent his departure, “You've had it out for us since the very beginning-.”

“Get your hands off the captain,” A red shirt stepped forward with his hand in his phaser, eyes narrowed as the Vulcan also stepped closer to Steve, likely ready to deliver his species’ signature nerve pinch. Steve raised his hands as a sign of surrender after Kirk jerked out of his grasp.

There was a snark on his lips and a hard look in his eyes, “Touch me again and you'll find yourself in the cell with Mr. Barton, Mr. Rogers. My hospitality only extends so far.”

Steve’s fists clenched at his sides when the mess emptied out, leaving only Wanda and Steve behind. 

“I can’t believe they side with Stark.”

“I can,” He said, “Despite his faults, he’s awfully charismatic. He’s grown up schmoozing people and earning their favour.”

“What are we going to do about it? They have Clint in the brig, and it’s no stretch to think the rest of us could be next. You heard him.”

“We’ll just dance to their tune. For now.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard finds out that not all of the Rogues are that bad, and the admiralty reaches a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Everything should be back on track now (hopefully)
> 
> Edit: Oh lord I already found some mistakes. I'll fix them soon!

Waking up in pain was no longer something new for Leonard. Even after all these years, what remained of his leg and fingers ached with a phantom tenderness, especially in the mornings. However, all of that was easy to ignore in favour of the throbbing in his face, beating in time with his heart.

“Jesus, fuck Barton,” He grumbled, pulling his prosthetics - now fully charged - on without much thought. Prodding at the flesh around his eyes, Leonard was relieved to find that there was no swelling. He honestly shouldn’t have expected otherwise, those anti-inflammatory hypos Christine had given him worked like a dream. But damn, did it still hurt like a bitch.

It wasn't a stretch to think there were dark bruises sitting just under his eyes, given the wide berth everyone was giving him when he finally got around to leaving his quarters. Some even seemed to wince in sympathy before bidding their hello’s. Well, there was nothing he could really do about that, so he held his chin high when he passed the Avengers group - likely on their way back from the mess - rocking the wreck that was his face as much as he could. Dr. Stark was unsurprisingly absent.

He didn't even spare Barton a glance when the archer sent a withering glare his way -  _ what the hell was he even doing out of the brig anyway _ . Leonard had mentally prepared himself earlier for another physical confrontation, and was surprised when Barton still continued stomping by. Understanding dawned on him when a small party of security trailed after the Avengers, jaws clenched tight and eyeing the heroes -  _ ha, heroes _ \- with apprehension.

Jim had probably ordered a detail on him.

Keeping a chuckle to himself, Leonard slipped into the mess with his PADD tucked under his arm. A familiar face tentatively smiled up at him as he passed, “Lieutenant!” Anan seemed to catch himself subconsciously rubbing at his arm and tucked his hands between his thighs with a sheepish shrug to his shoulders, “It’s good to see your arm lookin’ better. Chris did a bang-up job didn’t she?” Thankfully, the replicators were just by their table, and Leonard waited patiently for his cup of coffee.

“As she always does,” Leonard recognised the look in the lieutenant's eyes, and he had to fight to keep a smile down. 

“You don't stand a chance, kid. You ain't her type.” He was sure Mwangi, their newest navigator for Beta, wouldn't appreciate the lieutenant vying for her girlfriend's affections.

Anan sighed heavily as his friend, someone whose name Leonard currently couldn't recall for the life of him, patted him on the back with a laugh, “I know.”

A dull thud, just loud enough to catch his attention, sounded somewhere to his right, and a quick glance revealed Scott Lang. By himself. With his head on the table. And even from where he was standing, Leonard could see the look on his face. 

He grabbed his cup when it was finished and, in the spur of the moment, requested another.

There wasn't much about Scott Lang in the media. Ant-Man was still rather new to the hero scene, and there was no information on him and very little on the suit he wore in the SHIELD dump either. A suit that was, at present, stowed away in the ship's high-security storage. Pym Industries had requested that their technology be confiscated upon the Rogues’ boarding.

Leonard wanted to lump him in with the rest of the Rogues -  _ sorry, Avengers _ \- but the man was so unassuming and stuck to the background that he hadn't given him much thought. As far as he was aware, and he was pretty aware, mind you, Lang’s part in the 'Civil War’ had just been his stint in the airport.

And thank god there were no casualties.

There was no food in front of Lang, and the doctor in him wanted to urge him to get something down, but it didn't look as if the hacktivist could stomach much. Excusing himself distractedly, Leonard made his way over to him, two cups of black coffee in his hands. Lang eyed him warily.

He really hoped he didn't regret this.

“I know that look,” Wasn't what he had intended to say, but he just rolled with it, “Here. May I sit?”

Jim was on the other side of the room, and made a gesture as if to say 'what the hell are you doing?’. He waved him off.

“Thanks and… sure,” Lang accepted the coffee easily enough, but didn't make a move to drink it beyond wrapping his fingers around the mug. His leg shook furiously as he watched Leonard gingerly sit himself down with a small hiss. So it was one of those days, “Doctor McCoy, right?”

“I ain't on duty. Just call me McCoy, if you'd like,” They both stewed in silence after Lang's responding hum; Leonard sipped at his own drink, letting the bitter flavour dance across his tongue.

“Sorry about that, by the way.”

“What? Oh,” Leonard gingerly massaged at the skin under his eyes, before shrugging, “Don't apologise. ‘S not like you punched me.”

“Still… Clint shouldn't have punched you like that. I know he's angry, and everything, and what you said didn't exactly help the situation, but he should know better.”

“I don't think he ever knew better,” Slipped past before he could stop it, but Lang snickered in agreement, a bitter smile on his lips.

“Yeah, you're probably right. You should've heard him when we were back in Wakanda,” It was almost like the floodgates had opened, and Lang just started… talking, “It was always something, you know? I don't think I ever saw or heard him say one positive thing about anything. The smallest thing would set him off.

“All of what had happened and what followed somehow boiled down to being Stark's fault. It was his fault that we were terrorists. It was his fault that he couldn't see his kids. It was his fault that we got thrown in the RAFT. I started avoiding him after a while. Wanda didn't help matters, either. Though, to be honest, most of them were like that.”

Lang finally took a large, audible gulp of his drink, nearly downing it in one go.

“I take it you didn't agree with them?”

“I'll admit that I did blame Stark, for a little bit. But I've had a lot of time to think. It's all on us, isn't it?”

The next words on his tongue tasted more bitter than the coffee in his hands, because all Leonard wanted to do was vilify these people. Hell, before the 'Rogues’ had come aboard, he had planned what he would say to them should it come down to it. None of his words were nice. He hadn't prepared for any of them to be this self-aware, though, “Well, it ain't no secret that I'm not exactly a big fan of your little group. My opinion of you is coloured and you know what my answer will be, so I ain't the person to ask.”

“Fair.” That lost look came back to Lang's face, with just the slightest hints of a deep-seated fear. The kind that had been festering in him for a while now. Leonard would know, “Just… what if I can't see my kid when I get back?” The question was panicked and sudden. That explained it, “It was already hard enough to see her before when I was just a run-of-the-mill criminal. But I was a  _ terrorist _ for a while, there! It's been five years since I saw her last!”

His outburst had some of the other crew glancing their way, but their gazes didn't linger. Leonard almost didn’t know what to say in the face of this rapid change in mood.

“Look, Lang… what happened. I get it-.”

He scowled, “How could you possibly understand?”

Leonard narrowed his eyes in response, trying hard to keep his tongue under control, “I had a hard time gettin’ visitation rights to  _ my _ own kid for a while, too. Don't go jumpin’ to conclusions.”

Lang reeled back at that, flushing in embarrassment and a halted apology on his lips, but Leonard couldn't help his heavy sigh.

“Don’t. I can't guarantee anythin’, especially since our situations were so different. But, I think tryin’ is the best you can do,” Clarifying what he meant by 'try’ would be unnecessary as Scott nodded along hurriedly, eager to listen.

He couldn't help but pity the man before him, who looked so tired and out of his depth. A thought came to mind.

“Did you know what you were gettin’ into, during the Civil War?” A nervous shake of the head had Leonard muttering a soft curse under his breath.

“I got a call that Cap needed me. So, I went to help. I-I know that was a mistake, now.”

“Let me get this straight,” He almost couldn't believe his ears. All of this time, he had thought that everyone under Rogers’ command had been delusional. This was almost worse, “Captain Righteous called and you jumped? Did you even know what they were fightin' about?”

“...No, not at the time. They told me something about corrupt governments and the Accords after Steve broke us out of the RAFT. Couldn't get much more out of them.” 

“Lang… did you ever read the Accords?”

When his eyes dropped to the table in front of him, shame causing him to hunch on himself, that was the answer Leonard needed.

“Give me your PADD.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m tryin’ to help you, idiot. Against my better judgement. Just give me your PADD.”

Looking a bit shaken in the face of his snarl, Lang slid it over with wide eyes and barely even reacted as Sam Wilson made his way over, a tray piled high with healthy foods in his hands. Not even Leonard spared him a glance when the veteran pilot cleared his throat, choosing instead to copy the Accords from the ship’s archives onto the tablet.

“Here. Read ‘em. Maybe you’ll realise just how badly you fucked up.”

Scott said nothing, simply accepting the device with a hesitant nod. Wilson, however, had no qualms with speaking, “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh? You don’t know how everything went down. You weren’t there.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“So? You seem to be offering yours like its Halloween candy.”

Clenching his jaw tight, Leonard said nothing. Because the man wasn't wrong, no matter how much he was tempted to hate his guts, and he couldn’t argue with that. Lang, on the other hand, look horrified at his teammate’s comment, “Dude.”

“Look,” Wilson sighed, finally taking a seat at their table, “I didn’t mean to come here and start a fight. Sorry. I just wanted to ask you something.”

A quick once over told Leonard that Wilson was being honest, and hey, maybe he could knock some sense into  _ his _ head as well, “Shoot. So long as I can ask you somethin’ in return.”

“A little quid pro quo? Okay,” Sam took a second to shovel some yoghurt in his mouth, gathering his thoughts as he swallowed, “Why are you so angry with the Avengers?”

He raised his brow, “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

Wilson shrugged, “Hey, man. That just depends on if the answer is personal, and I didn’t say you  _ had  _ to answer. I'm just trying to understand all of the sides here. The other may be quick to judge you, but I'd like all of the cards in the table before coming to my own conclusion. If I was to learn anything about the time I was a therapist, it's that.”

Leonard decided, at that moment, he disliked Wilson the least in that group. The man still had some explaining to do, however.

“Well, first off, my issue ain’t with the Avengers. It’s with your little terrorist group, and the fact that even after all this time, y’all can’t see just how badly you’ve screwed over people’s lives.”

“I… I'm pretty sure Scott and I have never denied our part in all of this.”

“Your illustrious leader, the man you support and haven’t spoken out against so far, is another story entirely. So, guilty by association and all that.”

Sam made a face, but didn’t argue.

“I get that,” Lang’s voice was quiet as he stared down at his PADD, probably skimming the Accords’ summary if the screen was any indication, “Sam, did you ever read the Accords? Because what I'm seeing here isn't what Cap said it was.”

“What?” When Wilson went to lean into Scott's space, disbelief on his face as he read the statement, Leonard was starting to think there was a  _ lot  _ more to this than he had originally believed, “Jesus, Steve.”

“Okay, so what I'm gettin’ is this: none of you ever read the Accords.”

“No, I just took Steve's word for it. He said he had read it, but I'm starting to think he lied to me,” Sam's voice was distracted as he continued to read, taking the device from Scott in the process, “He’s my friend and he fucking lied.”

“He does that a lot, actually,” Came a new voice. Scott nearly leapt out of his seat in surprise when they all turned to see Stark standing there, something unreadable in his eyes, “Don't take it too personally.”

“Dr. Stark,” Leonard greeted, sliding over a bit to offer him a seat on the bench. 

“Your face reminds me of a party I had in ‘03,” Tony laughed as he sat, speaking into his mug of coffee. Black, from what Leonard could smell, “Then again, I don't remember much from that party. There was a lot of alcohol involved. And fighting. And a bed, I think.”

Sam's snort seemed to surprise even himself, seeing as he quickly struggled to wipe the grin off his face.

“Seriously, though, thanks for standing up for me yesterday. You didn't have to.”

“No thanks necessary, Dr. Stark.”

“Tony, please. Anyone willing to get punched while defending my honour can at least call me by my first name.”

A snort, “Then call me Leonard,” McCoy turned back to Wilson and Lang, all warmth disappearing from his features. But he wasn't as cold as he had been, “Read the Accords, the both of you. If you don't understand the legal jargon, ask that woman in red over there,” He nodded towards Uhura, who had just conveniently walked in with Chapel beside her, “That's Nyota Uhura, our chief communications officer. You couldn't find someone better to help you through it.”

“Yes, sir,” Lang muttered, meekly. Sam merely nodded along, before shovelling more food in his mouth. He silently nudged Scott to take some from his tray, but otherwise said nothing.

“Good.”

And with that, he turned to St- Tony. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, but any words he might have spoken died on his lips. Because it was then that Leonard finally noticed the blue -  _ blue like Jim's eyes _ \- glow in the other man's chest. Before, the sharp suit jacket had covered it up. Now, without it, the thin black fabric of his comfortable band tee did nothing to hide it.

Leonard remembered the headlines a few years back, when the billionaire was set to remove the arc reactor from his chest. Leonard had thought it to be a medical marvel, then. Both the installation and the removal of the technology.

And to see it back in this man's chest again had him grinding his teeth.

He wouldn't ask what happened. But he could guess.

After all, there was a long period of time where Tony Stark had gone silent. ”

* * *

Please run that by me again, Captain Kirk.”

Jim held back a sigh, but he was sure that the admirals on the screen wouldn't mind if he had let it loose, just this once. Even Spock looked like he needed a nap, or a good session of meditation, with the way his face screamed 'done’.

“I know you heard him the first time, Nogura,” Admiral Hofton, a small but ferocious woman, said wryly. She rubbed at her temples with a frustrated frown on her lips, “Good lord, what the hell are we going to do now?”

“And what the hell was Ellis thinking, granting them pardons?” Komack added, taking a long drink from his glass of water. He probably wished it was whiskey, not that Jim could blame him, “I just knew he'd pull something like this. How he even landed a second term is beyond me.”

“Focus,” Nogura snapped, “So, what we know is that the Rogues-.”

“Avengers, Heihachiro. They're technically Avengers.”

“-either didn't read the pardons, or simply couldn't be bothered to understand them. That'd make them null and void, but where are they going to go? We can't bring them back to Wakanda, because King T’Challa doesn't even want them back. Something about them being a menace to their palace staff.”

“And,” Ch'tarak, their newest admiral, chimed in, Andorian accent heavy, “The  _ Enterprise _ isn't equipped to deal with super soldiers, master assassins, or witches, should they try to detain them. We should have requested that Doctor Strange accompany Stark, as I had said.”

“That wasn't our decision, Ch'tarak, and you know it. Stark insisted on doing this alo-.”

“Admirals, if I may.”

Lady T’Pau had requested to be part of any and all decisions and developments regarding the ex-terrorists. No one objected or questioned it.

There had been a Vulcan family in Leipzig when everything went down. An ambassador had been at the UN as well.

None of them had survived.

“Many sympathies for thy plight, captain,” He bowed his head in acknowledgement, “I am confident I have a solution. The situation presented before us is a delicate one. Earth has the means to detain these people until the ship should reach Earth, if I am correct?”

“Of course, Lady T’Pau,” Nogura said, having calmed once she had started speaking, “Both The Vision and Doctor Strange have the abilities to subdue the witch, who would be our main concern. If they were to work with the rest of their team and the officers we have specially trained, it should be no problem.”

“Very well. I believe we should contact them to be prepared when these 'Rogues’ arrive. In the interim, I suggest that Captain Kirk and his crew continue to review the documents with the Rogues. Perhaps they can reach an agreement before then.”

“Forgive me, Lady T’Pau,” Jim hesitantly spoke, unsure if he was treading dangerous waters, “But I would figure, that out of everyone here, you would want their imprisonment the most.”

The ancient woman scrutinised him for a second, her dark eyes boring into him as if searching for something. He wasn’t sure he had whatever she sought.

“If I were to label thy words as false, I would be lying. Captain America and those who had followed him into exile have committed grievous offenses against not only the remaining peoples of Vulcan, but also the peoples of Earth. I, among many others, wish to see them punished for their offenses.”

“Then why? Why give them a second chance?”

“I must admit I’m curious to your reason myself,” Hofton propped her chin her hand, looking into her camera as if she was in front of T’Pau herself, “You can’t possibly believe that the Rogues will suddenly change their minds about their pardons. From what Kirk has just told us, they’ll probably find issue with nearly everything in those papers. Having them go over everything, word for word, would be an exercise in futility.”

“This is true,” T’Pau agreed, “But you have forgotten that more than half of Earth’s population still view them in a favourable light. As we speak, the Americans in particular are scrutinising our every move.”

Understanding dawned on Spock - Jim saw the moment it happened - before it came to anyone else, “This is a political move. If we at least show that we made an attempt, there would be no logical reason for the American people to be discontent with the Rogues’ detainment,” His expression almost became scolding, although it was almost too slight to be noticeable, “Lady T’Pau, you must know that humans are seldom logical beings.”

Well, as Jim lived and breathed. That woman’s eyes were sparkling.

“That’s… smart,” Komack grumbled, sinking a little further into his seat, “Can’t argue with that idea. Should’ve expected a logical solution from a Vulcan, of all people.”

“As someone who’s served with a Vulcan for quite a few years, Admiral, you’ll learn to never expect anything less. While going over their pardons is going to be rough, for everyone involved, I believe it’s our best bet,” Jim silently wondered how Stark would take the news. With relief, hopefully.

Hofton, for the first time since the video conference had started, cracked a smile, “I find myself agreeing with this as well. Nogura?”

The admiral pursed his lips, “I have one question I need to be answered before I decide officially.”

T’Pau inclined her head in assent.

“What if they  _ do _ come to an understanding? What then?”

The earlier tense atmosphere returned with a vengeance. 

“Admiral Nogura,” She said, face and voice grim, “They will not.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues just keep digging a deeper hole for themselves, and Bucky makes a revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is like, two week late, sorry!

“This is prejudicial!”

Leonard downed his glass of water in one gulp, the beginnings of a migraine coming on and desperately wanting to be anywhere but here. Seriously, why was he even required to come to these meetings?

Lord, a nap sounded good right about now, so long as he didn’t have to listen to this bullshit for another second. No, a drink first, then a nap. Yeah. He had been intent on tuning their complaints out, and he was of the genuine belief that if he listened to one more second of their delusional and nonsensical ramblings he'd lose what little sanity he had left.

Well, there wasn’t much to lose in that regard.

At least he could take comfort in knowing he wasn't alone in the sentiment when Tony made a show of heaving a heavy sigh as their eyes met, brows to his hairline and fingers to his temples. Leonard bumped his leg with his own, a tense grin on his lips.

Jim braced his arms on the table. They had been at this for three hours already, and Jim had dropped all pretenses of formality when he had begun pacing only an hour in, gold sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Even his hair wasn’t looking as neat as it normally would. Not with how he kept running his fingers through the strands in frustration. Everyone else had followed his lead, getting into more comfortable positions and settling down for the long road ahead. There were even trays of food and glasses filled with liquids of varying levels scattered on the large table. Leonard popped an almond into his mouth.

Gotta take his frustrations out on  _ something _ , after all.

“I’m starting to believe we have very different definitions of what ‘prejudice’ means, Mr. Rogers. This guideline was put into place because of the Avengers’ history as a whole, not just from the events of your… civil war. After it became known that Miss Maximoff had a hand in the creation of Ultron, directly or not, it was decided that physical and mental evaluations were needed to prevent something like that from happening again. You don’t pass, you don’t get to be on active duty.”

“Police officers and firefighters are required to pass these evaluations before they are allowed to perform their duties,” Spock allowed a ghost of a scowl to cross his lips, “The same can be said for Starfleet officers. What would make you exempt from this?”

“Stark needs to be checked by a shrink. Not us.” Barton muttered under his breath, but kept his eyes on the table. That was probably a good decision on his part, considering the severe look Spock sent his way. 

“I had  _ nothing  _ to do with Ultron!” Maximoff spat, a delicate hand slamming on the table. Luckily, the rings on her fingers didn’t damage the glass, “Why do people keep saying that?”

Rogers, unsurprisingly, agreed, “There’s nothing to support that kind of claim. Like I said, this is just a way for the Accords council to unjustly punish Wanda.”

“Oh my god! The Accords were scrapped! There  _ is  _ no council!” Jim threw his hands in the air with an almost manic look in his eyes, “And, sure, let’s ignore the fact that evidence has come out that Dr. Stark was mentally unfit at the time of Ultron’s creation, something that was a direct effect of Miss Maximoff’s attack on his mind!” He froze for the briefest of seconds, sending an apologetic glance the billionaire’s way, “No offense.”

“None taken. By all means,” He waved his hand to the room at large, “Continue. And as Spidey would say, ‘Go off, sis.’”

“How fucking mature, Stark.”

“Then how does that explain the rest of us?” Rogers voice rose a few levels and barrelled over Clint’s uninventive insult, “All of us were attacked by Wanda. Yet, we didn’t make some murder robot that almost destroyed the world. And she also apologised for attacking us!”

“Where can I file for a refund? I never got one.” Tony flippantly said, which only got him on the receiving end of the Rogues’ glares.

“Considerin’ Dr. Stark’s a genius, it might have somethin’ to do with the fact that y’all share half a brain cell between yourselves and couldn’t put together an IKEA shelf if you tried,” Leonard couldn’t help but add. Lang slapped a hand over his mouth, mostly successful in suppressing his mirth.

“Leonard!” Nyota snapped at him, a fierce look on her face. He hunched in on himself, mentally scolding that slip-up.  _ Just keep chewin’ on the almonds and keep your mouth shut, Leonard. You're bein’ recorded, remember? _

For evidence, of course. Before the Rogues had arrived, Jim had told the Starfleet officers that were present what the plan of attack was, as had been suggested by Lady T'Pau. A genius plan, really.

And it wouldn't go smoothly if he kept running his mouth off.

“...sorry.” 

“The hell you are-,” Barton snarled, but Jim interrupted.

“Okay,  _ next _ ,” A simple swipe of his finger on the PADD had him on the next page, “Lieutenant Uhura, if you would be so kind.”

“Of course, captain.” She cleared her throat before translating the legal jargon on their screens, explaining what each and every line was saying so there wouldn’t be any confusion to the contents, “Basically, this tells you that you have limited access in the Avengers Compound. If you can't get into an area with the ID card you'll be given upon your arrival at Earth, you're not allowed. Failure to respect that boundary will require immediate disciplinary action. Which can include, but is not limited to, being placed on a probationary per-.”

“This is all your doing, Stark!”

“Mr. Barton, let this be a reminder that you’re already on thin ice. Watch yourself.”

“What’re you gonna do? Lock me up again?”

As the room dissolved into more heated arguments, angry voices overlapping each other, Leonard found himself having a hard time keeping an audible snarl off his lips. 

How in the hell did he just notice that the one-armed super soldier had been staring at him this whole time? Like he was some damn puzzle to be solved?

Self-consciously, he rubbed at the scar tissue on his face, “You lose somethin’ over here?”

As if coming back to himself, Barnes seemed to panic for a second before furiously shaking his head and, finally, averting his eyes, something akin to shame colouring his cheeks.

Good.

“Let’s just move on, okay?” Jim's near scream pulled his attention away from Barnes, “I’ve already made it clear that we’re just going over everything in your pardons, and if you still disagree with them by the time we get to Earth, we’ll figure things out when we get there.”

“We’re not agreeing to these.”

“Then just  _ listen  _ and  _ be quiet _ .”

Spock, always the voice of reason, cut off any more arguments before they could begin, “Captain. Perhaps it is time we discontinue the pardons for the day. I do not believe we can focus on this properly if we continue the way we are.”

“Good idea, Mr. Spock,” Jim quickly agreed, looking eager to be moving on to a different topic. Leonard was about to get ready to book it out of there when Jim asked, “Is there anything you want to address that’s  _ not _ related to the pardons?”

Of all the fool-headed things to ask-!

Almost immediately, Barton, Wanda, and Rogers started complaining about every little nonsensical thing that ever existed. The food replicators were subpar -  _ who could compete with Wakandan cuisine? _ Sonic showers made their hair course -  _ hate to break it to ya, but the water rations are reserved for medical only _ . Very few would go out of their way to treat them with kindness -  _ well, no shit, nobody likes you. _

The worst part about this was that none of these were truly valid issues to gripe about. Surprising? No. It seemed in character, especially with how Tony had the look of a man who's had to deal with this for years. Annoying beyond all belief, though? Definitely.

Jim seemed to be listening to their complaints with thinly veiled irritation; Leonard didn't need a tricorder to tell him his blood pressure was probably through the roof right now. 

Spock, on the other hand, seemed to have had enough. So much for being the logical, reasonable one. Not that he could blame him.

“You will cease your bothersome tirade,” The words were level in a way that spoke volumes about the Vulcan’s current mood. Leonard sunk further in his seat, attempting to fade into the background as he fought to hide his grin, “It has become increasingly clear that you expect more than you deserve.”

“ _ Deserve _ ? Who are you again?” Rogers finally stood from his seat, knuckles white as he dug his fists into the table. It was obvious he was trying to use his height to his advantage, consciously or not, and with the way Tony seemed to push away from the table and hunch in on himself by the smallest of measures, it was working, “Who are you - an alien -  to decide that we don’t deserve basic kindness?”

Careful, Rogers, your xenophobia is showing.

He already knew this, of course, but damn wasn’t Rogers a delusional one. The crew of this ship  _ was _ showing them basic kindness. More than, actually. They were given all the luxuries that came with being a diplomat on this ship: they got the largest quarters, unrestricted meal cards, full and unlimited access to all recreational facilities on the ship, and many,  _ many _ other things they definitely didn’t deserve.

So what if no one felt like including them at the lunch table?

“I…” Spock had been seated directly across from Rogers, and he now stood from his own seat, mirroring the super soldier’s stance. He looked like a predator, “..am one of the last remaining members of an endangered and dwindling species. My people have been struggling to rebuild for years. Very few elders are left, hundreds of surviving Vulcans have passed from shattered bonds, infertility is running rampant amongst our women-”

“So?” Maximoff scoffed, “That doesn’t make you in the right.”

“Perhaps not,” Spock's eyes narrowed at the witch, who met his eyes with a stubborn set to her jaw, “But it does not make my opinion any less valid.”

“You're a Vulcan. Opinion means feelings, and you don't have feelings.” 

“You are incorrect. The Vulcan peoples do indeed have feelings, we simply do not let them influence our decisions like humans do. Not until now, that is. We have never had a reason to before. However, your actions in your 'civil war’ - actions you refuse to acknowledge nor take responsibility for - have harmed us in ways you cannot imagine,” He reeled himself in with a deep breath, the intensity bleeding away from his form like melting ice. Instead, a deathly calm settled over him, even if his eyes were wet. Jim whispered his name, half-heartedly, knowing full well where this would lead. It didn't stop him, “T'Pring left her position from what remained of the Vulcan Science Academy to build a family with her bonded, Stonn. She often accompanied Stonn on his trips, as he was one of Ambassador Tyssok's aides-.”

“Are you even speaking English? What's a Stonn? What does this even have to do-?” 

Leonard could see the moment Nyota bristled in anger, and he could understand why.  _ That's a name, dumbass. _

Only eleven percent of the crew spoke English - himself included - at varying levels of proficiency. All officers on board were most fluent in their mother tongues, and for eighty-nine percent of them, that wasn't English. Even Nyota, for all her skills in linguistics, was still more comfortable speaking Swahili than any other language in her arsenal.

She had already complained to the other bridge crew about how their ‘guests’ refused to speak Standard (thank Sato for small mercies like the Universal Translator). But assuming that everyone else was to speak English, despite the fact that English is unique only to Earth, is the height of twenty-first century American ignorance. A time, thankfully, long since past and present only in textbooks with pictures of red hats and bad tans.

Of course, he didn't have to be a xenolinguist to view this as a problem. He was a doctor. He took those cultural sensitivity classes in medical school, and even then, he didn't need those courses to know that was the wrong way to view the very universe they lived in.

Spock, however, seemed to have found this inconsequential and was determined to keep telling his story.

“Ambassador Tyssok attended the UN meeting on the Accords in Leipzig. Neither he nor Stonn survived the bombing.”

It wasn't enough to shut them up as Rogers was practically angsting over the fact that the bombing wasn't their doing - which was true, Leonard had to grudgingly admit. Silence did finally reign supreme when Barnes shakily asked, “And T'Pring?”

“Dead. Her escort crashed into another vehicle when they swerved to avoid hitting a human. That person was an officer that had been thrown into traffic by an enhanced individual. The collision was unavoidable, given that they were confined to a tunnel where a superhuman fight and police chase were occurring.”

“Jesus,” Tony whispered.

Their shock was palpable.

Leonard had been enjoying their humiliation up until this point, because death was not to be taken lightly. Especially not the death of a woman and the baby she had wanted to carry to term. Or the deaths of the other civilians in that tunnel.

And he could hear it, see it, in his mind's eye. The screams, the screeching tires, the shrill sound of tearing metal…

Spock didn't have to go into detail for him to  _ know _ . His imagination, quite frankly, did all the work for him.

“Are we done here?” It came out hoarse, and he swallowed a couple of times to clear the sudden dryness in his throat, “M'Benga took over for my shift and I left him with a lot of paperwork. He'll have my head if I leave him with it any longer.”

It was a pitiful excuse, even to his own ears, but Jim… he understood. So did Spock, who met his gaze before looking away, apologetic in his own way.

“Yeah, okay,” Nyota gave an audible sigh of relief, standing to gather her PADD, “We'll reconvene tomorrow. Dismissed.”

Evidently, the Rogues were eager to leave as well, seeing as they left without a word. Lang and Wilson seemed to share a look between them before staying behind, nervously approaching Nyota where she raised a brow at them.

“Are you Lieutenant Uhura?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

Barnes spared him a final glance before following after Rogers.

What was his deal?

“Doctor McCoy told us you'd help us work out the Accords?”

“Did he now?”

With a mumbled farewell to the remaining people in the room, Leonard figured that was his cue to leave. There were patients waiting for him in Sickbay, and he wasn't lying when he left M'Benga with a lot of paperwork.

* * *

 

“They're all bullies!”

Bucky loved Stevie, he really did, but he wasn't sure if he could handle this right now. Honestly, all he wanted to do was slip under the covers of his bed and bury his head under the pillow.

Even the Soldier was grumbling from his space in the back of Bucky's mind, claiming that maybe a good tongue lashing would be enough to shut the other man up. 

He was tempted.

At the moment, Steve was pacing the floor of their shared room, hands gesticulating wildly as he ranted and raved about anything he so desired. Granted, his memory of Steve before he was captured by HYDRA was fuzzy at best, but it seemed like he hadn't changed one bit.

Before the serum, when he was a scrawny thing, his confrontational behaviour was something to laugh at. It could even be endearing, on some days. But now that Steve was this large, hulking form of a man, it was scary.

“...And  _ Tony _ ! God, the least he could do is stand up for us, Buck, after everything he did!”

“Stark doesn't owe us anythin’, Stevie. The fact that he hasn't swept the floor with our bodies for leavin’ him in Siberia is more than I could ask for.”

“But it wasn't your fault! Buck-!”

“Just be glad he didn't take more than my arm,” Steve seemed to swell with indignation, and Bucky knew that if he didn't stop him before his tirade started, there'd be no end, “Whatever, punk. I don't want to talk about this.”

He felt guilty for making himself look tired and vulnerable just to appeal to Steve's pity, but it worked as his friend seemed to turn from a raging bull into a golden retriever at the drop of a hat. The almost condescending hand that descended on his back made him want to punch Steve in that perfect face of his.

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. It's just… I'm mad about how we're being treated. Like we're criminals. It's just not fair,”  _ We  _ were _ criminals _ , “I mean, have you heard the way Kirk speaks to us? Or that doctor! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve seen how he-.”

Bucky couldn’t help the way he froze at the mention of the southern doctor, the nails of his fist biting into his palm. And unfortunately, Steve noticed.

“What is it?”

“It's nothin’,” He said after a beat, but who was he kidding? It was near difficult to unclench his jaw so his words came out strained and tense, “Don't worry 'bout it.”

But, as par the course, he didn’t listen.

“Has he said something to you?”

“N-no, despite what you think, not everyone's out to get us,” While Steve seemed to want to argue that point - because okay, sure, the doctor had been hostile since  _ day one _ \- but it seems he chose to bite his tongue. About that particular fact, that is, “But no, he's avoided me as much as he's been able to.”

Let's ignore when McCoy had noticed him staring. How embarrassing.

“Then what is it, then? It's obviously not 'nothing'. You know you can tell me anything.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Bucky scrubbed at his face, swinging his legs up on the bed and leaning back against the sinfully fluffy pillows, “It's just… I'm not entirely sure, but I swear I've seen him before. The scars are throwin’ me off, though.”

“When you say you recognise him… You don't mean he's involved in one of the Soldier's kills, do you? Because I swear if he's another Tony-.”

“Jesus, Steve, no! Drop that already!” With more force than he intended to, Bucky swiped the nearest PADD towards him - he couldn't be bothered enough to care if it was his or Steve's - and started accessing the database, “There's got to be a picture of him before he got his scars in here somewhere.”

Surprisingly enough, Steve said nothing and simply chose to lean closer, watching his every movement. Seemed he was curious, too.

Getting into the archives was easy enough, considering he had permission to access them. So it was just a simple task of entering the doctor’s name into the necessary fields and waiting for the device to spit some information back at him.

And the reward he got for his efforts forced the breath out of him, like a punch to the gut.

“What? What is it?”

Bucky couldn’t bring himself to respond at the moment, taking in the image before him: hazel eyes that were less jaded than they were now, a slight upturn to his lips, dark brown hair without a single speck of grey, skin unmarred by scars that were marked only by faint laugh lines… The man he was looking at was both familiar and a stranger to him.

“I…God, Steve,” He whispered, horrified, “I think he was in that tunnel in Leipzig.”


End file.
